Crimson Rain
by Karia Ithilai
Summary: A collection of drabbles revolving around Hitsugaya Toushirou and Hinamori Momo. Genres will vary greatly. [Rewritten October 6th 2007]
1. Crimson Rain

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series Bleach in any way. If I did, then I would be doing much more interesting things to the characters than just writing about them.

_Written while listening to Evanescence's 'Your Star'_

1. Crimson Rain

* * *

Rain used to be gentle.

Rain used to be sweet and soothing with its feather soft touch. She used to love watching its intricate dance as it wove blurry patterns of water across her windowsill. It used to calm her and bring back faded memories of lying in the moist Rukongai grass, laughing and frolicking among well-gnawed watermelon peels in the misty drizzle.

It used to remind her of days spent sitting at the door of her room, watching the peaceful, deserted streets awash with the cleansing sweep of the storm. It used to remind her of countless cups of warm and steaming tea, slowly sipped amidst easy conversation and light laughter as the storm fell outside. Rain was gentle, rain was kind, and rain was loving. The quiet showers were was just like Aizen-taichou.

Raging storms were different, but no less wonderful. They were strong and could sweep her away in the roar of water. Soft rain would invite melancholy and introspection, but a furious gale was breath-taking. To her, they seemed to be proud, powerful, and she couldn't help to admire the force behind the storm.

If the soft drizzle seemed to shadow every day of her life, then it was the furious storms that seemed to punctuate every important event.

The day she had said goodbye to Shiro-chan and left for the Academy had soon become a raging rainstorm. The day she had been accepted to Fifth had been punctuated by heavy rainfall as well. The day she became Aizen-taichou's vice-captain was one of the largest storms in months. She had wondered if rain was a bad omen of some sort, but they always happened on happy occasions.

Soft rainfall meant gentleness and calm. Heavy rainfall meant strength and change. So Hinamori continued loving the rain, soft and heavy alike.

Then her world shattered. Aizen had killed her - perhaps not literally, but he had every intention to do so. Her gentle and loving Aizen-taichou was dead, taken away by a cruel and manipulative imposter she did not know. Every memory was shrouded by that crimson drizzle of slowly seething blood as he slid cold steel into her heart.

From then on, Hinamori hated the soft and quiet rain. It mocked her, forcing her thoughts to wander, wander, always back to the man it used to remind her of. But heavy rain – heavy rain was wonderful. The sheer force of the rain beating down on her, the sound of pouring skies as they washed everything away – she could run into the arms of the storm and be comforted, safe, protected, and reassured.

Perhaps it had been the sound of the roaring storm outside that called her out of her world of dreams. She had heard the strong rain through her window and woken to Shiro-chan's firm, warm grip on her hand as he dozed in a chair besides her bed.

Heavy rain marked strength.

In the chaos that followed her awakening, she had counted on the heavy showers to wash away her doubts, to guide her, to keep her sane and safe. She grew to love the raging tempests fiercely, more fiercely than she had every loved the gentle drizzle. They stirred the side of her that was the woman Momo and not the timid vice-captain Hinamori. The storm was her witness, at each and every step she took forward.

It had been raining harder than she ever remembered when Hitsugaya told her he loved her.

'_I love you_.'

Heavy rain marked change. Her life changed very quickly after that. On the battlefield, on scouting missions, during reconnaissance – whenever she was even remotely threatened, then he would be there, eyes blazing and blade flashing. He had awed her with the sheer amount of power he possessed – he as strong, proud, and would keep her safe. And it seemed that heavy storms followed in his wake.

Hyourinmaru was, after all, a weather-based zanpakutou.

The storms would take over everything the gentle rain had once reminded her of. She let the memories of gentle smiles and light laughter fade in favor of teasing conversation and understanding silence, with the rushing of rain in the background. Even when she was alone, all she had to do was watch the rain fall in endless sheets, and she would feel his arms around her, his eyes watching her, and the corners of his lips teasing upward into his trademark smirk. She loved him, and loved the thundering rain storms for reminding her of him.

Hinamori never understood why others would hate the 'depressing weather'.

And then, suddenly, she could.

The tattered shreds of his cloak. The crimson staining his beautiful white hair, and his beautiful, beautiful jade eyes closed, when they should have been open and blazing with power. The broken, soulless blade that had been the greatest dragon in the history of Soul Society – Matsumoto had been clutching it to her chest and hiccupping brokenly.

Hinamori didn't remember screaming.

All she could remember was the heavy, heavy rain, beating down on them, trickling down his bloodstained face, running along the ground, running in a crimson stream around her feet. Fading away at last to a soft drizzle. Then from the soft drizzle to nothing.

She hated the rain.

* * *

_Rewritten October 6th 2007_


	2. Forgive and Forget

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach in any way. Hell, I don't even have the cleaning-type bleach in my house.

2. Forgive and Forget

* * *

She used the words like a mantra when they were younger. It irked him, at times, that she could just blithely repeat that pointless piece of advice and shrug off anything that anyone had ever done to her. 

_Forgive and forget, Shirou-chan_

It might have been a side effect of Hinamori's kind nature and her innocence. Might have been her way of dealing with the world. Sometimes, hearing it was a relief on its own, just by knowing that she was still the same old Momo.

But that didn't make it any less stupid.

He had seen her begging him with her eyes when he returned from the living world.

_Mou, Shirou-chan, forgive and forget, ne?_

He had rolled his eyes and averted his gaze. Yeah, he could forgive and forget that Aizen-bastard…_after _beating him to a pulp, freezing him, melting him, then beating him to a pulp again.

He was only upholding a long, unspoken custom from their childhood. And if she never learned, then neither would he. She could go on forgiving and forgetting, and he could go wreaking vengeance on anyone she had forgiven and forgotten.

It was like an extension of every time he had beaten up a bully who decided to pick on her because she looked too damn kind for her own good.

_Forgive and forget, Shirou-chan!_

This was often accompanied by a light smack on the head and a brief lecture about unnecessary violence that he had learned to tune out early on.

He would roll his eyes and agree. For the next five minutes, at any rate. Then another bone-headed idiot would approach her, they would go through the entire process again.

The foolish bullies would pick on the innocent, naïve girl, and then find a shrimp beating the crap out of them. Then, when they were completely defeated and barely conscious, they would hear the voice of the girl scolding the boy, then dragging him home.

He'd think she'd get the idea soon enough and give up on her manta altogether, but the procedure happened over, and over…and over. He wondered if she had noticed the general pattern in the outcomes of these scenarios, then realized she probably didn't remember.

_Forgive and forget_, after all.

So she just kept trying, and he just kept tuning it out as he drove his fists into the faces of anyone who as much as looked at her funny.

The closest she had ever gotten to realizing that her mantra had absolutely no effect on him was asking him _why_ he was choosing to ignore it. Violence was wrong, and violent people would be punished.

His eyes had softened for a moment (a tiny, infinitesimal, barely noticeable moment, but a moment nevertheless) before he shot her his trademark smirk.

Wasn't it obvious?

If she wasn't going to lift a finger to defend herself, then who would beat up the idiots who tried to take advantage of her if he was busy _'forgiving and _forgetting'? If he didn't protect her, no one would.

So she wouldn't do the sinning, he'd do it for her.

_

* * *

__Rewritten October 6th__ 2007_


	3. A Thousand Paper Cranes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series Bleach and probably never will (Unless the person who owns Bleach has a random fit of insanity and gives it to me). Woe is I.

_Inspired by the book 'Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes'_

3. A Thousand Paper Cranes

* * *

Hitsugaya had never cared much about what others thought of him. Pride was what he thought of himself – there was a sharp difference between caring about self-image and self-discipline. As long as he could match his own expectations, no one else's expectations mattered. 

No one expected the rude and cold brat admitted to the Academy to be a genius, much less the youngest Captain in documented history. No one expected the fury of the dragon inside him. And no one expected how much pride he was willing to sacrifice or how much heartache he was willing to endure for the sake of Hinamori Momo.

When he could feel their surprised, sympathetic glances they gave him when they thought he wasn't looking, he knew they hadn't expected this either.

No one expected Hitsugaya Toushirou to fold Origami. It was too…_frivolous_, too time-consuming to be something he did regularly.

He didn't care.

He had read a book once in the living world – it had been about a girl who was ill with something called leukemia and had folded paper cranes to get better. A thousand; she had needed a thousand, but never lived to fold that many. But the idea had stuck with Hitsugaya as profoundly as the ending of the book had.

He would reach a thousand, even if he had to fold all his fingers raw. For her to be free, to fly away from her troubling dreams on the wings of the cranes, to be free of the illness that trapped her in her mind. He folded with an icy determination that only barely concealed an almost childish desperation.

As soon as he had any free time, be it at mealtimes or between meetings, he would come to the Fourth division hospital room with a stack of square paper. And it was beautiful paper – paper that came in dozens of vibrant colors, splashing the stark white hospital room with life as the delicate birds began populating the space.

It was no longer an uncommon sight for passing Fourth division members to see the usually cold Tenth division Captain folding delicate cranes in stoical silence, his eyes softer than anyone could have imagined possible.

Sometimes others would join him. People like Renji or Kira or Matsumoto would stop by and they would fold with him in silence.

But most of the time, he folded alone with no company save the unconscious girl attached to the life-support machines. The one all of the beautiful cranes were being folded for.

Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease.

Another small bird would flutter to life.

The cranes filled the room now, dangling from the ceiling and perching on every surface. The room was a shimmering mosaic of colors and life, willing the girl sleeping in it to open her eyes and see the world waiting for her to come back. And Hitsugaya would fold, and fold, and fold. He would fold until she was free of the dreams that trapped her, and she could open her eyes and see herself surrounded by the colors she loved so much. He would fold until his fingers were num and raw with cold, until every scrap of paper he had brought was transformed into a delicate bird.

It might have been foolish. It might have been waste of time. But every crane held another hope, another prayer, another drop of love directed towards her, showing her the path back. Back to him. No, a thousand wasn't too many – it wasn't even enough to express the feeling.

So he kept folding.

It took two years to reach a thousand.

And in that room, the room surrounded by a thousand vibrant cranes, each enclosing a piece of his heart became her deathbed.

She died.

He never believed in fairytales anyway.

In a way, his wish had been granted. She was free. So he buried the thousand cranes, the thousand beautiful, broken, useless scraps of paper, along with her. He let them carry her away. Let the thousand shattered pieces of his heart take her somewhere he could never reach.

Away with the thousand words of love he never spoke to ears that never heard.

_

* * *

_


	4. Chocolate

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Bleach, I would be rich. As it is, I'm broke.

_Happy Valentine's Day; yet another happy drabble, to balance out the sad ones._

4. Chocolate

* * *

_Carpe Diem_. Seize the day.

Or, at least, that's what Matsumoto had told her it meant, before pointing slyly at the small square on her calendar labeled February 14, circled with various shades of pink markers.

Hinamori, had, of course, heard of this peculiar holiday that humans generally celebrated on this particular day, and she had overheard enough excited gossiping from various females in her division to know what it meant. That knowledge, combined with her not-so-well-concealed feelings towards a _certain_ Tenth Division Captain, accounted for the brilliant shade of red that had spread across her face when Matsumoto made a casual comment about the occasion, then dropped a real world magazine in her lap that would supposedly tell her how to make chocolate.

Hinamori had been too busy mustering her courage to even consider sending Hitsugaya-kun Valentine's chocolate to check the magazine for the recipe. In fact, she had gone and planned everything – taking a day off from work, borrowing a bag of chocolate mix from Rukia-san, buying the necessary foodstuffs and decorations, and inviting Hitsugaya-kun over for dinner – before putting on an apron and actually working on making the chocolates.

Hinamori had been more than just nervous, but between Matsumoto's pep talks and the amount of preparation she had done (she had even bought those adorable watermelon molds for the chocolate, to make hers stand out from the dozens of others Hitsugaya-kun would most certainly get from anonymous admirers), she couldn't back out of it anymore. Plus, Hitsugaya-kun had probably already received her invitation for dinner (and she had already prepared the dinner beforehand), so there really wasn't any going back on her decision. She would make him chocolate, and that was that.

But that was before she finally flipped open the magazine and realized, to her horror, that the entire thing was written in English.

Hinamori was having a minor panic attack. Her English wasn't anywhere _near_ decent, and while she could make out a measurement here and a number there, the entire thing might as well have been in gibberish. By the time she had gotten a grip on herself and determinedly decided to do the best she could, Hitsugaya would be arriving in an hour. Which meant she had to get this done, and fast.

Now, standing in her own kitchen with an apron tied around her waist and her sleeves rolled up in proper housewife fashion, Hinamori tentatively opened the chocolate mix and poured what she hoped was the right amount into a measuring cup. She squinted at the magazine and tried to make out the next step.

Was that half-a-cup of milk, or half-a-cup of water? Or perhaps vinegar? She had no idea – might as well try all three in separate batches, and see which one worked. The oven was supposed to be preheated to...240 degrees? Or was she supposed to put the chocolate in the oven for 240 minutes?

Was she supposed to stir first, or let it set? When did the baking powder go into it? Did she need baking powder at all? Hinamori was painfully aware that she was in over her head, but the chocolate was for _Hitsugaya_. She couldn't just give up on it.

So Hinamori struggled the best she could with the various ingredients and utensils, wreaking general chaos and confusion in her small kitchen for the next thirty minutes. By some freak accident (or divine miracle), she managed to get a somewhat decent seeming mixture into the watermelon molds baking in the oven before the hour was up.

Only after she had popped the final batch into the oven did she stop to take stock of her kitchen.

There were spills and overturned containers everywhere. Globs of failed batches were almost overflowing from her small trashcan, and much more was liberally splattered across her countertops. There were open bottles and empty packets of sugar strewn across the floor and a half-empty pot of boiling water was still steaming on her stove. Hinamori glanced at the clock.

And nearly screamed.

_Five fifty-five?!_ Oh god, Hitsugaya was arriving in five minutes! She couldn't let him see her kitchen like this!

Hinamori made a mad scramble for all the bottles and bags littering the floor. Gathering them up in her arms the best she could, she scrambled over to the already-filled-to-overflowing trashcan…only to stumble over an empty can she had overlooked. This sent tumbling off balance, dropping all of her hastily collected litter and throwing out a hand to steady herself.

The said hand landed on the kitchen stove.

With a pained yelp, Hinamori jerked reflexively away from the hot stove, nursing her burnt fingers, only to bump into her counter – where a pile of messy bowls and dishes were piled precariously next to the sink. The impact sent them tumbling down to crash into the sink…and onto the floor. Only her shinigami reflexes (which prompted her to get away from the plates in an ungainly hop-skip) saved her from the shattering ceramics.

Hinamori was too distracted by the plates to notice the oven's beeping sound until she smelt the faint tinge of smoke.

Then, as if to top off the entire fiasco, as she stood in her kitchen amidst the horrific mess…the doorbell rang. Then she heard the door open, as Hitsugaya let himself in.

"Momo? What are all of these decorations for…and why do I smell smoke?"

She didn't have to answer, because right after that, he opened the kitchen door. Hinamori was suddenly hyperaware of how ridiculous she must have looked – smeared from head to toe in chocolate paste and flour, nursing a burnt hand, and standing in the middle of her devastated kitchen – complete with smoke and the splattered remains of her would-be chocolate decorating the floor and walls.

Hitsugaya quirked an eyebrow. "What battle happened here?" he asked, surveying the degree of the damage.

"I…I…" Hinamori choked back her utter mortification and tried to keep herself from bursting into tears. "I was t-trying to make…ch-chocolate."_Don't blush, don't blush…too late_. Hinamori felt her face burn with embarrassment and immediately covered her face with her hands.

Her burnt hands.

Hitsugaya noticed immediately. "Hinamori…you burnt your hands…making chocolate?" His eyes were teasing, but filled with barely hidden concern. His trademark smirk was slowly making its way across his face.

Hinamori blushed harder and nodded dumbly, eyes dropping to her feet to avoid his gaze.

And suddenly, Hitsugaya was at her side, taking her hands into his and brushing them gently with his lips, planting a soft kiss that eased the stinging pain. Hinamori looked up at him in surprise, only to meet his brilliant, aquamarine gaze dead on.

And suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

"Baka Bed-wetter Momo, I get enough chocolate from other people." He scolded her softly. "You don't need to make me anything…"

He smiled at her – not a smirk, but a true, rare, Toushirou-smile that was reserved for her and her alone.

"…I already have you."

And suddenly, Hinamori realized, making chocolate hadn't been so bad after all.

* * *

_Rewritten January 19th 2008_


	5. Do You Remember?

Disclaimer: If you sue me, you will get nothing, because I don't own Bleach anyways.

A/N: Angstish...spoilers and continuations for ch...180 I think...whatever.

**Do You Remember  
**

Hinamori had never wanted to become a shinigami…until she realized that she could put her spirit power to better use and help others who needed it.

Hinamori had never wanted to be a Vice-Captain…until she had met Captain Aizen Sousuke, who seemed like the most perfect person in the world.

Hinamori had never wanted to turn her sword against her Shirou-chan…until she had read Aizen's letter and made sure everything wasn't just a terrible nightmare.

Now, Hinamori didn't want to wake up. She could have still been a carefree girl in Rukongai living with her childhood friend, needing nothing else but a little food and sunshine.

She didn't want to wake up…until she heard the voice of her Hitsugaya-kun calling out to her, pleading softly for her to wake up. Then she finally realized why she had never wanted to do anything she already did...she had been blind and had left her true priorities behind.

* * *

Hitsugaya had never wanted to be a shinigami…until his Momo had left him for that stupid academy and lost herself in a mass of dangerous activities. 

Hitsugaya had never wanted to be a captain…until Hinamori had become a Vice-Captain, and he needed a higher rank in order to shelter and protect her.

Hitsugaya had never wanted to hurt Momo…until she had been blinded by her own rage and nearly made a mistake that he knew would haunt her forever. If he had actually done something to offend Hinamori to that extent, he would probably have already killed himself.

Now, he didn't want to standing by her bedside, watching her motionlessly living as an empty shell, haunted by all of the faults she thought she had.

* * *

Hitsugaya hated it…every aspect of this situation was wrong. 

Once she had become a Vice-Captain and he had become a Captain, the people around them tended to forget who they actually were. Deep down, Hitsugaya knew he was still the rude boy who spit watermelon seeds at the girl next door, not the calm and cold prodigy everyone believed him to be.

And he knew, deep down, Momo was still the girl who wet her bed at night, then came running to him with eyes full of tears and fear from her latest nightmare. After she had become Vice-Captain, she had stopped coming to him and going to her dear Aizen-Taichou…and Hitsugaya knew that both of them felt something hadn't been quite right.

"Hinamori…"

The rest of the unasked question hung in the air. _We have been running onward, never looking back. How…How did it ever come to this?_ Now she was unconscious and barely alive, betrayed by the man she had loved with all her heart. He…people depended on support as their Captain and drew strength from his stability, when, in truth, he wanted nothing more than to be free again.

"Why won't you wake up?"

Hitsugaya unconsciously asked when he already knew the answer. Now, they could only go back to the children they were in their dreams…their dreams were an escape from the nightmare they lived in. His Momo did not want to wake up…he selfishly wanted her to, so he wouldn't have to suffer alone.

Hitsugaya felt his legs carry him towards the bed and dropping him into a seat next to it. He reached out for her hand and flinched upon contact. Her fingers…they were so cold, too lifeless.

Then he sat there in silence…thinking of what to say, more to himself than to Momo.

"Do you remember," Hitsugaya formed his words carefully, "that time in Rukongai when we first found that watermelon patch? And how I used to spit seeds at you?"

"Do you remember…that time you fell into the river, and almost drowned…then I had to dive in and get you. We both drank so much water that day, didn't we?"

"Remember that time…when we both picked our birthdays…and you picked the day you stopped wetting the bed…and I picked the day we met?"

"And then, when we celebrated mine…still in Rukongai…with that…that ridiculous, lopsided…watermelon cake you made? Heh, I still remember how you used a stick for a candle and nearly burnt down the house."

"And that time you got your letter for the Academy…and you were so excited? Well…I didn't admit it then…but I was pretty…pretty depressed…depressed that you were going to leave."

At this, Hitsugaya's voice broke, and he felt an unfamiliar warmth roll down his cheeks.

"Hunh…I…Isn't it funny where…where we ended up? Who would've thought…I…I…Momo…"

He clutched her hand tighter.

"Funny…why are my cheeks wet…goddammit…Wake up, won't you…for…me?"

She didn't respond. Hitsugaya let go of her hand suddenly and quickly wiped the tears away on the sleeve of his shinigami robe when he heard approaching footsteps. The shield of ice slid neatly back in place, but not before he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"I wish…I wish we never made the stupid choices we did…but…I wish you would wake up more. Momo…if…no, when you wake up…let's start over, okay? I'll always be there for you…our promise, remember…"

He picked up her hand and pressed it into his palm tightly before laying it back on the white bed sheets. Then he stood up abruptly and his softness vanished – it was a calm, level voice that called "Come in" to the knock on the door.

Then the fourth division member delivered a message summoning Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou, not _Shirou-chan_, to some important mission briefing. Hitsugaya glanced back at Hinamori one last time, smiled an imperceptible, dark smile, and swept out of the room.

The fourth division member watched him leave before a sign of life aroused his attention.

The girl on the bed…her hand moved slightly and a tear rolled down her face for no apparent reason. And her breathing began to rasp slightly, forming almost completely inaudible words.

"_I…re...mem...ber, Sh...Shirou…chan…_"

* * *

A/N: 

Ahaha, my version of events in chapter...uh...was it 180 or something? Well, its the unfinished scene wen Hitsugaya visits Hinamori's hospital room ohohoho...

all the events that supposedly happened in the past are made up by me. I hav no idea concerning their accuracy...but...Hitsu-angst galore!

should I take a shot at Hinamori angst later? XD (no, i'm serious...if you think it's good or bad, REVIEW AND TELL ME!)

yes, as always...REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVI I I I I EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!

remember, updates are the bread of the readers, reviews are the bread of the writers...if thou dost not review, i shall starve to death (metamorphically) and haunt you to the end of your days...MUAHAHAHA!

REVIEW!

REVIEW!

REVIEW!


	6. The Man He Almost Was

Disclaimer: If I owned Bleach, I would not be writing this.

**The Man He Almost Was**

The moment she met him, she did not know she had fallen in love with him. In fact, she knew she WAS NOT in love with him. Who would fall in love with a rude, stubborn kid that was shorter than she was and spat watermelon seeds into her face?

Yet, something kept her around him, something that made it unbearable to leave him behind. Was it the softness hidden behind his icy glare, or the hidden fondness in his voice as he teased her? Or maybe it was simply meant to be.

She hadn't known, and she didn't ask. Some things were better left unsaid, she decided, and pushed the thoughts to the back of her head. Nevertheless, even in the back of her head, they began growing, spilling out, and itching madly, clamoring for attention.

So she left him behind in Rukongai to attend Shinigami Academy. She needed to get some distance between them, to sort out her thoughts and decide exactly what it was that made him so dear to her.

Whatever that something was, it made it unbearable to stay at the Academy for long, and she found herself irresistibly drawn back to that little cottage in Rukongai, with the watermelon patch in the back yard. Back to that rude, loud-mouthed shrimp that called her all sorts of rude names.

Then she had seen exactly why, but she didn't know it was the answer to her questions. There was that special, special day at the Academy that changed her forever – she had met Captain Aizen Sousuke, the man of her dreams…or so she thought. Yet, even in her devotion, something felt wrong, missing…as if she was loving the man for the wrong reasons, as if to fill up a void inside her heart.

But she had a goal then, and she worked towards it with all her might and soul. She made it into the Gotei 13, and even managed to get into Captain Aizen's squad, much to her joy. She should have been content, should have been fulfilled…and yet…something still kept dragging her back to the small little cottage in Rukongai with the watermelons in the back yard. Back to that rude, loud-mouthed shrimp that called her all sorts of rude names.

She couldn't explain exactly why she went through all the trouble to visit again, so she put it down as homesickness.

* * *

Then the boy at home had suddenly surprised her, attending the Academy and proving to be a genius, climbing ranks faster than she could blink. And the day he had gotten his captain's cloak, she had cried and hugged him for joy, though he pushed her off angrily and grumbled something about embarrassing him in public. 

Suddenly, she found that the need to go back to Rukongai had changed into a need to constantly visit the 10th Division Headquarters, especially at night when she had nightmares.

What was wrong with her? She thought long and hard, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe…no, she was NOT in love with him, the idea was ridiculous. She was in love with Aizen-taichou, for goodness sakes! The only reason she still hung around him was that he was a friend, a really good friend that always managed to give her a nice, full feeling after talking.

But then she became Vice-Captain, and saw him a lot less often. Her days were filled with paperwork, missions, and Aizen. And the next time she had seen him, he had changed so suddenly, without her noticing.

The rudeness and childish frown had been replaced by nonchalance and a smirk. His eyes reflected the determination and quickness of wit that all Captains seemed to have, and the raw power he contained never failed to make her speechless with awe. Now, every time she saw him, a feeling of expectation, an exhilarating cold seemed to sweep through her, as if she was waiting for him to do something.

Life had been beautiful, wonderful…everything that she had dreamed it could be. She was a Vice-Captain under Aizen-taichou, she had wonderful friends like Renji, Kira, and Matsumoto, and her Shirou-chan was there for her every step of the way. Her world was a perfect world…

* * *

Then everything fell apart

The last thing she remembered was Aizen stabbing her. The betrayal had only taken a split second, but a million thoughts ran through her head as she fell to the ground, bleeding to death. Her entire life literally flashed before her eyes…and suddenly, she understood the questions that had been bugging her for so long.

She didn't love Aizen, never did and never should have. She had merely admired him and used him as a pale imitation of what she truly loved. A pale imitation what she had seen in that rude, loud-mouthed shrimp back in Rukongai such a long, long time ago…and subconsciously fallen in love with.

She hadn't loved her childhood friend…then. What she had fallen in love with…was the man he almost was. The potential of what he would become, but wasn't yet. She had fallen in love with the gentler side of him, past the obnoxious rudeness and arrogance, the part of himself he wasn't mature enough to bare to the world.

The man he almost was, and she regretted, as she lay bleeding to death, that she would never live to see…or he might not even live to become. When she had felt his reiatsu flare up near her, against Aizen…Aizen had killed him, or at least wounded him enough to make his reiatsu disappear. And she was gripped by horror, fear that she had never experienced, even when she found Aizen pinned to the wall.

But she had had no more time to fear, everything dissolved into blackness and death…or so she thought.

* * *

She woke up. It took her almost fifty years, but she woke up.

And she found Hitsugaya. He was not the man he had almost been when she had last seen him.

He was much, much more.

* * *

A/N:

woot, muses going crazy

i've gotta admit, that was pretty cheesy and pointless just a summary of stuff that's already happened from Hinamori's POV

still, at least i got it into words

and no, this is not the Hinamori Angst i promised in the previous chapter...i'm still struggling with that IT WILL COME THO, NEVER FEAR!

now, only one thing left for u to do...REVIEW! REVIEW NOW OR FACE MY WRATH! (flames will be used to cook instant ramen)


	7. Too Late To Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, unless they're offering the entire series free.

Beware: Character Death, Angst, Severly Bad Writing Ahead

_This is after Aizen's death, but the war with Hueco Mundo is in full swing. It has been almost fifty years since the War began, and Hinamori woke up in the first few years of the War. Soul Society has suffered staggering losses. Some Captains and Vice-Captains, identities undisclosed, have already died and new ones have taken their places._

**Too Late To Love**

_(I see the shadows haunting your eyes_

_And in the darkness, I'm hearing your cries_

_If only you'd let me dry up your tears_

_I would protect you from all your fears)_

He closed his eyes temporarily, thanking every god he knew for the darkness hiding his expressions from her. If she never saw the pain and betrayal flashing through his eyes, he could pretend it never happened. Only…it did happen, and no matter what he did, the past would come back to haunt him…as it always did.

"So…I guess this is it then, hunh?" Hitsugaya's voice was level, reflecting none of the boiling emotions he felt. If Hinamori could manage to keep her voice so void of emotion, he would as well. Two could play at a game.

"Yes, it is." Those three words from her mouth, so perfectly clear and so perfectly incomprehensible, was all the confirmation he needed. Rather, he couldn't take it any more. He deserved no better – pouring out the heart he guarded so tenaciously to her, and she had trampled it into the ground. If Hitsugaya had actually believed in a divine power, he would have assumed that God was punishing him. Hard.

The passionate kisses and caresses, the lashes of emotion and frustration, and the relief that he thought she provided him…they amounted to nothing. During all of those times, not once had he doubted her intentions…and once he had, he realized just what they were.

She did not love him. He had merely been an outlet for her frustration. The War, the atrocities they had seen and committed during this horrible…horrible war, could they even love at all…or were they truly alive? Souls were like corpses now, moving automatically without any point of existence, long deprived of anything remotely like emotion.

What else was there to say? He swallowed the building lump in his throat and forced a dry smirk.

"You're right." Because it is too late to love.

He walked without turning back, without letting her see the angry tears threatening to fall, out of her room, out of her life.

_(Before it's too late to love…)

* * *

_

She felt like screaming hysterically as she watched him leave her wordlessly, leaving her room, leaving her life. But all she did was bite her quivering lips in silence. Thank God for the darkness – the unjustified droplets rolling down her cheeks as her heart fought against itself to keep her voice calm, went unnoticed. She couldn't tell him, no, better for something never to begin than to fall to a tragic end.

The war had changed her – Aizen had changed her. Even from the grave, the despicable man haunted her thoughts. His loving caresses, his gentle smile, the way his eyes twinkled as he told her the most beautiful stories…each shred of joy they used to bring her joy now brought nothing but raw pain and emptiness.

She could not…_would not_ drag her tired soul into another relationship. No matter how much she truly loved him, she wasn't ready, not now and probably not ever, so Hitsugaya had left her little choice when he laid the very deepest, darkest feelings of his soul bare to her.

She had rejected them. There was no way for her to stomach them, not with everything on her mind. The war was far from over, though Aizen was dead, and too many people, from the highest Captains to the lowest recruits, faced imminent death on the frontlines. Conspiracy, secret monitoring, and corruption ran amok, and there was simply now way to start a relationship.

The words she longed to say to him, three simple words that could make all the wrongs in their relationship right again, were impossible for her to say. The images of a certain ex-Captain still haunted her nightmares, the sounds of dying subordinates on the battlefield haunted her ears, and she could still see the blood of enemies on her hands no matter how hard she scrubbed.

Hitsugaya was…too often had she gone to him on the verge of breaking, never even explaining her actions before locking her lips roughly over his. Not a word passed between them during these times, not a question asked and not an answer given. She had used him…used him as nothing more than an outlet for her confused emotions, even when she knew that he was truly so much more. But…now it was too late to run back to him, too late to make things right again.

Hinamori smiled sadly to herself. Or maybe…it was just_ too late to love_.

_(Don't run away, now, stay by my side_

_To me, there's nothing you need to hide_

_These secrets, you have to learn to let go_

_Before it's too late to let the love flow)

* * *

_

Hitsugaya looked over the mission sheet in his hands again, accepting without question. To kill off both Gin and Tousen single-handedly with no back up was plain suicide…but then again, every Captain's mission was plain suicide. Somehow, everyone fell into the crazy rhythm of taking these ridiculous tasks into their stride, not even batting an eye at the dangers involved.

He had written a letter to Matsumoto and instructed her not to open it unless he failed to come back. He had…paused before writing Hinamori's, but his mind was ill at ease until he did. He had avoided her for the past month, never going farther than a brief glance before quickly looking away. With luck, maybe he could avoid her until the mission began…considering that that probably meant never seeing her again.

Yet, just before he was about to leave, he just had to run straight into her.

_(You can't keep running away from me)

* * *

_

She had nearly told him…everything. Just seeing him dressed casually in his Captain's uniform, Hyourinmaru strapped to his back like usual, and his expression relaxed in an emotionless mask, had nearly broken her. He was leaving as if it was no big deal, even when he might not come back. And…the thought of Hitsugaya _disappearing_ terrified her.

He had smirked at her – one of those indecipherable expressions that carried so much emotion in such a brief time. It had overwhelmed her.

'_Jya, Baka Bed wetter Momo.'_

And then he was gone. She had called out his name, searched for him, and even begged him to come back. She needed to explain everything. Her heart was understandable again; she knew what she wanted. Aizen…Aizen didn't matter anymore. Hitsugaya did.

And she had to find him before she lost the chance forever.

_(Before it's too late to love)

* * *

_

Hitsugaya felt like shit. He leaned against the tree that was supporting him on the edge of the small forest he found in the area, trying to catch his breath.

Hopefully, the slight rest would make him feel better, better enough for him to drag himself back to Seirei-tai. Right now, his head was swimming and his limbs felt like lead, not to mention he had no idea how much blood he had lost.

He had caught Ichimaru alone, luckily, and even managed to defeat the former Captain. Only, before he could land the finishing blow, Ichimaru had detonated some form of self-destructive Hadou, blowing the entire field they had been fighting in sky-high. The blast would have killed anyone else – the initial explosion had sent Hitsugaya flying about 50 meters and left an enormous crater.

He had struggled to his feet and limped to the edge of the clearing, now resting against the tree in a sitting position. A few moments earlier, he had dug an energy pill out of his pocket and swallowed it, hoping it would make his aching body feel better. So far, it was only getting worse.

Hinamori…somehow, his thoughts always drifted back to her. He still hadn't resolved their relationship problems…mental note to do that…once…he got back to…Seirei-tai…

Hitsugaya blinked once. His vision was going white and his limbs felt surprisingly light. He should have known the stupid energy pill was drugged – Unohana tended to do that a lot.

Ugh…somehow, he needed to get his sorry ass to the 4th Division. Something told him that he needed medical attention NOW. Yet, his body wasn't responding to him again, so Hitsugaya could only rest against the stupid pine tree and wait.

The blood was probably ruining his Captain's cloak. Hinamori…wouldn't if be funny if she found him like this?

Probably not.

_(You don't know what you're missing_

_Until it's completely out of your reach_

_So before, it's too late for you_

_You have to get a little more love)

* * *

_

Hinamori was not a Vice-Captain for nothing – she could track people. Only, now it was the dead of night, and that made tracking much harder. She could barely see her hand in front of her face, much less the surrounding area.

And Hitsugaya's reiatsu was hidden, as usual. Somehow, all the Captains managed to completely conceal their presence.

After hours of long work, she found him sitting under a large pine tree, aquamarine eyes threatening to freeze her to the spot. Hitsugaya didn't speak, but his unasked questions seemed perfectly clear. Hinamori found the gaze piercing and averted her eyes.

"Ano, Hitsugaya-kun, There's a lot that I want to say…but…well, I'll start with this. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything I said before; I was just…frustrated and scared that you came on so fast." Hinamori began. She waited for his reply and received silence. At this, Hinamori's fear perked slightly. Perhaps…Hitsugaya was still mad at her.

"I also wanted to tell you that…well, I wanted to tell you for a long time, but I don't know how to…uh…say it." Hinamori stumbled over her own words. "I just…wanted to tell you while I still have a chance. I…I-…Aishiteru, Shirou-chan."

No response.

Hinamori looked up, meeting those piercing blue-green eyes again. However, the lack of emotion, or even surprise, triggered something inside Hinamori. "Hitsugaya-kun, KNOCK IT OFF! I'm giving a serious confession, so could you at least respond to tell me what you think? Maybe you're mad at me, but how am I supposed to know if you don't say something?"

No response.

Hinamori placed a hand on Hitsugaya's shoulders to shake him, but she was surprised when Hitsugaya leaned forward into her, resting heavily on her shoulder.

"Hitsu…gaya?" Hinamori put her arm around him to steady him, but froze when her hand came across a cold, wet feeling over Hitsugaya's back. She drew her hand back – whatever the substance was, she couldn't tell in the poor light. She pulled her hand close and sniffed.

There was a sickeningly familiar, metallic smell that could only mean one thing – blood.

By the looks of it, Hitsugaya's entire back was saturated by the blood – he was injured, and it looked pretty bad. Hinamori's eyes widened.

"Hitsugaya-kun! You're hurt! Why didn't you say anything?"

Her hand brushed by his cheek – it was cold – unnaturally cold, and Hitsugaya didn't even react. No, it couldn't mean…

Hinamori shook her head slowly, painfully denying the obvious. "We need to get you to Unohana…ne, Shirou-chan?" She stared into his unseeing bright turquoise eyes. No…

"Hitsu…gaya…"

_(Before it's too late to love…)_

"Hitsugaya!"

_(Before it's too late to love…)_

"**TOUSHIROU!"**

_(Before it's…too late…to love)

* * *

_

humans never appreciate what they have…

until all they have is taken away

-source unknown


	8. Darkest Before Dawn

Disclaimer: See previous chapters, because I am too lazy to re-type it.

Major spoilers for chapters 232 and onwards!

**Darkest Before Dawn**

* * *

_'He's releasing his zanpakuto.' _"Don't think I'll let you go that easily! BANKAI! Daiguren Hyourinmaru!" 

"Strangle him. Trepa Dora."

_'Not good.' _Hitsugaya thought to himself, as the smoke started to clear away. Memories of Arrancaru No. 11 flashed through his mind, and Hitsugaya winced unconciously. Then he saw the strange tentacle smash into the side of Hyourinmaru's Bankai, barely giving him enough time to raise his guard. _'Not good at all.'_

But he wasn't about to say that aloud.

"Ch. What's wrong? Is that all you've got? I'm talking about your attacks in you 'after releasal' state."

"Haha! You can protect yourself so well!..."

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed at the taunting reply. He squinted through the smoke, trying to make out the Arrancaru hidden within.

"...but honestly, I didn't expect you to be able to stop it. I'm a bit surprised - you 'captain-levels' can fight, not what I expected. But you know...if my attack now was to...GO UP EIGHT TIMES, COULD YOU DEAL WITH IT?"

Then the smoke cleared away. And then, not one, but EIGHT frickin tentacles came slamming into him, almost too fast for eye to see. Hitsugaya felt Hyourinmaru's ice shatter around him.

_'Shit.'_

Then he began to fall.

"I told you didn't I?" was one of the last things he heard before he fell too far to hear.

* * *

They say that it was always darkest before dawn. 

Was it really? Hitsugaya was beginning to doubt. Because his world seemed to be getting darker, and there had yet to be a sign of dawn.

_"You're Aizen-taichou's...MURDERER!"_

That was probably the start of it. When Hitsugaya finally realized that it wasn't day anymore...that the light was starting to fade, that the sun was starting to set, and that the chill of night was starting to swallow up the warmth of day. He should have known. After all, he had been expecting it for a long time, and no one can ever prevent night from falling for long. Yet he had purposely shut his eyes and ignored it, imagining that it would pass the moment everything was straightened out.

But when he saw her limp body lying in her own pool of blood, there was no denying it.

_"Aw. You found her. Maybe I should have hacked her body into pieces so that you couldn't."_

Night had fallen. And he was lost in the darkness, without a light to guide him.

Hitsugaya knew he was stronger than that, and he could wait it out. Giving up did no good. And only wimps were afraid of the dark. Yet...everytime he had gone to the fourth division to see her, lying stretched on the white, sterilized linens, as pale as death itself, he could feel his heart breaking inside him. And always, he had to catch himself before he stumbled into darkness anymore.

It was darkest before dawn, after all. Wait it out, be patient. Everything will work out.

And the moment he had seen her come up onto the communication video screen, Hitsugaya believed, for a wonderful, brief moment, that dawn was finally breaking after all.

How wrong he was.

_"Hitsugaya-kun...from here on out, ...are you going to fight against Aizen-taichou?"_

_"...I am."_

_"Will you kill...Aizen-taichou?"_

_"..." He didn't answer, but his unspoken reply was obvious. _

_"I beg you...Please save Aizen-taichou!"_

It wasn't dawn at all. If anything...It had gotten darker. And he finally realized just how deep the darkness ran.

Aizen-taichou. Hinamori still refered to that man as her captain...which means she was either hoplessly delusioned or rejecting reality. Maybe both. Probably both.

Both were unacceptable.

Dammit, what did he have to do to get his point across? He was tired of this darkness. Hinamori needed to wake up, not just physically. His night wouldn't end as long as hers didn't, and Hinamori was still neck deep in midnight. And the situation didn't help either, with the Arrancaru attacks and the time before the wakening of the Hyou Gyoku growing ever shorter...

They were running out of time. Dawn had better break soon, or this would be on hell of night. One that involved Soul Society, the Human world, and Hueco Mundo, and pretty much everything in between.

One that would definately involve him and Momo.

Hinamori had been his light, and without her, he was lost. And in this darkness he couldn't even tell if he had stumbled or fallen...

Then, suddenly, another thought struck him.

>

>

People woke up when the sun rose. Of course.

Hinamori was still trapped in the darkness of her own mind. Aizen had been her sun, the light of her world...and he was gone. So she wouldn't wake up, not until light.

Momo couldn't wake up on her own. So Hitsugaya mustered his own grim resolve.

Maybe he couldn't be the 'light of her world', but he could surely do something. If anything, he could shed a little light for her. He could bring back to her memories of day. While she probably didn't place near as much importance on him as he did on her, he knew that, somewhere in her heart, he still had a place, however small it may be.

It hurt him, sometimes, that she probably would never feel the same way about him as he did about her, but that was fine. He'd bear it. Because, right now, Momo needed his support. Even if he wanted to be so much more...

Friends were there for each other. He would swallow his own emotions for the time being, because Hinamori didn't need any more burdens than she already had.

He could share memories from before night fell. Memories that HE treasured and had preserved in his heart, memories that they had shared. Bring her back to a time when life had been simpler, and none of the darkness that now engulfed them had come into play.

Maybe...though it wasn't much, it would be enough light to wake her up.

He had to keep her alive until dawn. He had stumbled, he had fallen, but he could still get up again. After all, it was darkest before dawn.

But, while no one can stop night from falling, no one can slow or stop dawn from breaking either. Every moment they made it through brought them closer to dawn.

No matter what, dawn would come. He just had to hang on until then.

* * *

Hitsugaya fell after Daiguren Hyourinmaru shattered. But the last words still echoed behind him. 

"_I told you, didn't I?"_

Hitsugaya's eyes snapped open, and he tightened his grip on Hyourinmaru. Not this easily. He wouldn't lose this easily.

Summoning his reaitsu again, Hitsugaya concentrated, before releasing his Bankai again. Hyourinmaru could be defeated once, but not once and for all. Blade and wielder shared one point in common: resilience.

And Hitsugaya launched counterattack.

"W-what the hell is this thing!" The Arrancaru stuttered, trapped by his web of ice.

"With regards to after inflicting an attack on your opponent, you are too careless. Don't you know the meaning of following through?" Hitsugaya commented calmly, raising Hyourinmaru once more.

Following through meant alot towards winning a battle.

"You...were still alive..."

Of course he was. He would absolutely NOT die. Hinamori still needed someone to help her walk on her own two feet. He'd drag himself out of hell if he had to.

"Hyourinmaru is the most powerful of all ice snow types. As long as there is water, it can be revived an infinite amount of times."

"S-SHIT!"

"Don't bother. It's impossible for you to win." Hitsugaya gathered reiatsu for his next attack.

"I've had too much time to prepare, and it took you too long to realize it. If your weapon is eight arms, then my weapon is...All the water in the atmosphere."

"Wha-"

"SEN NEN HYOUROU." (1)

Then it was over.

"Sorry, looks like eight is not enough."

And because, no matter what, he'd have to hang on until dawn.

* * *

A/N:

(1) Thousand Year Ice Prison. For more details, go to www dot bleachexile dot com and download the manga.

hehe, well, newayz, I FINALLY UPDATED! talk about a badly organized chappie...but HEY! I STILL HAVE WRITER'S BLOCK AND THIS CHAPTER WAS FREE WRITING!

and because Hitsugaya was just too cool in the latest chapters and I had to glorify him more XD

newayz, REVIEW! constructive criticism welcome, flames will be used to cook instant ramen.


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